


putra luka

by lonalawa (fumate)



Category: Political RPF - Indonesia 20th c.
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, inaccurate because this is a fanfiction and i am too tired to research
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-17 06:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16090013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fumate/pseuds/lonalawa
Summary: from wounds, you bloom.





	putra luka

**Author's Note:**

> this is a work of fiction made for fun with no intention to make any profit from it. ~~blease dont ciduk me.~~

[ i. ]

it's not like he was unkind when you first met, it's just that he was... sassy.

you knew immediately, from the exact moment your eyes caught the glimpse of unsatisfied curiousity in his eyes, that this man wouldn't forever be your comrade. you knew. it was clear even then that you two would go through a lot of obstacles.

and still, you couldn't help yourself to fall for him; for hatta, the man with eyes that burn brighter than one thousand suns, the man whose voice is soothing like water to a dry throat.

 

[ ii. ]

you had seen flores, you had walked sumatra, you had slept in many other prisons.

out of those, you only loathed places with no hatta in it.

and it's time to go back.

"the japanese are coming," you said, voice heavy with urgency. "i need to meet someone first."

"who?" sutan asked.

you stayed quiet for a while. "tell hatta i'd visit his house at six this afternoon."

(when you went there, it was more comfortable than anywhere.)

 

[ iii. ]

"come join new pni."

hatta never beg. he's a man with pride, old-fashioned, stubborn and all the things that follow, but this once, you could see a tender hope blooms in his eyes. the words he spilled sprouted indications of his will to get you to side with him.

it was tough. you would choose him gladly, sure, but this is a national matter. you didn't want to encourage division in this newborn nation.

so you chose partindo, forced to side, and hatta might hated you a bit more than usual then, his eyes dimmed in a matter of seconds.

 

[ iv. ]

"don't cha ever want to get marry," you joked, once upon a day.

"no," hatta replied carelessly.

"everyone around your age had married."

"i wish to build indonesia towards more advancement before i settle in a domestic life," he explained, rather annoyed. "i don't want to sacrifice my family for the sake of political matters, and i don't want to abandon my duties for kids and a legacy i'm not ready of."

hatta knew damn well it pinched something in you, but you tried not to make it look so obvious. "is that so? you have women chasing after you."

"i don't marry for fun, buddy."

"what's the point of marriage if you can't have a bit of fun."

"that's different," sighed him. "and anyway, stop being so irresponsible. you're ten minutes late and the first thing you said to me isn't an apologize."

"i missed you." you smiled sadly, watching hatta's shoulders tightened up. "is it wrong to just be casual?"

"you know i hate waiting."

"and yet you still wait."

"soekarno," he exhaled, exasperated. "please be more serious."

"lighten up a bit. it's just you and me, now, not a legal matter."

"it actually is."

"what?"

"i want to resign," hatta looked at you in the eyes. "from this vice-presidency."

you were stunned. silent for a while, you couldn't believe what you heard. "what?"

"i said, i want to resign."

"why?"

"i feel like it's such a waste for indonesia to pay me as its vice-president when i don't even work that much," he said, pausing, and then his voice got rough. "and frankly, i think we have no common cause to bond over anymore. indonesia can't have a pair of leaders who keep clashing."

your stomach dropped.

you let him go, but more because you didn't have a choice than because you're willing to.

 

[ v. ]

you were sick. your body burned and your vision blurred.

and years after hatta cruelly criticizing your every moves, years after you banned his works in order to defend your image, years after viciously trying to tear each other apart,

hatta came to see you. he came, as an old friend, as a new friend, as someone who didn't quite forgive but was still willing to reconcile anyway.

"you look just like when i last see you, banning my book around," he joked, but there's a worry and tingling sadness in his tune.

your head spinned. your body hurt. your heart throbbed. your smile ached.

"hatta," in a blend of anguish and rejoice, your voice never faltered like this. "it's been so long."[] 


End file.
